


Moonshot

by Ad_Terrorem



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27662522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ad_Terrorem/pseuds/Ad_Terrorem
Summary: An OC-based one-shot. The world of combat tournaments was a cut-throat environment, with no tolerance of weakness or hesitation. You needed some combination of influence, skill, and style to get ahead. The Lyte name had gotten the influence, gotten her into the arena today. But of skill, Radie had relatively little. And style... she couldn't afford style.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Moonshot

"You get one shot at this, Radiance Lyte," she whispered to herself.

Radiance tightly gripped the hilt of her _jian_ , her father’s old blade. She wore a long loose silk shirt and a pleated skirt, with no decoration or trim. Her metal lamellar armour, in the Mistralian style and strapped over her own garments, was polished within an inch of its life. Her sword’s sheath of silvery metal was unmarked, save for scuffs of wear and age. It had belonged to Papa, but now it was hers.

Papa had made a life for himself this way, and now so would she.

She could accept nothing less.

Radiance hated the sheath of her _jian_ , with its ugly plain exterior. She hated the lamellar armour, with no give to it, her father’s old set, uncomfortably tight even through the silk. She hated the silk garments, pristine and white as they were, how they clung to her skin with seemingly no friction at all. Most of all, she hated her _jian_. It was the bane of her teenaged existence... it was the one item of quality that Mama hadn't pawned when times got tough. She wouldn’t let herself. 

All of their hopes and dreams were riding on that sword. A combat school scholarship, a place in a Huntsman academy, perhaps a long, fulfilling and most importantly _lucrative_ career as a Huntress, maybe even love and fulfillment in the long run.

Perhaps she could see her father again, or learn about his fate. Perhaps...

Perhaps nothing. Mama was banking this entire effort on years of combat training starting from when her little Radie was twelve and only just learning why her father had left them. It was a wasted effort, Radiance knew. Her fingers were clumsy, her body was awkward… her form was good, true, but she had no passion. And on some level her mother knew it, even if only her subconscious mind acknowledged the truth.

No. This wasn't about her life, not at all. Radiance didn't know her goals, she didn't know her dreams. How could she? She was only seventeen. A family consisting of a single mother, a port town under constant risk of attack from aquatic Grimm, too few jobs and too many unemployed, and she'd be joining their ranks once she was out of school. No money for college, not smart enough for scholarships... never enough money.

This was her mother's long-shot. This was her prayer and her hope to see her daughter's future secured. And if it failed, well... then, she'd tried her best.

Radiance knew it would fail. The world of combat tournaments was a cut-throat environment, with no tolerance of weakness or hesitation. You needed some combination of influence, skill, and style to get ahead. The Lyte name had gotten the influence, gotten her into the arena today. But of skill, Radie had relatively little. And style... she couldn't afford style.

All this passed through her mind and was gone, as she took a deep breath and stared at the match result as it was confirmed. She couldn't help it - she flinched. 

Pyrrha Nikos, the Invincible Girl, the Pride of Mistral. Three-time tournament winner, with an utterly perfect track record. And now, her latest opponent.

She remembered her training, and her other matches over the years. The good days were really good, and the resulting euphoria and adrenaline almost made her like her lot in life. But the bad days, the days where her opponents closed the distance and overcame the onslaught of her semblance, the days where she tried and failed to resist either overwhelming brute force or sheer finesse…

But then it had been that way for a while, hadn't it? The mind just glosses over ugly things... they fade into history, if you ignore them enough.

She didn’t know exactly why her father left. She had been too young to remember more than bits and pieces, and what she could remember she didn’t understand until she was older. 

What was Menagerie? Why did everybody want the Faunus to go there? Why didn’t the Faunus want to go? What was a Revolution? 

She had understood though, even as a child, that some people didn’t like her just because she had moth traits. And that every time they made their dislike too obvious, there was always a faint, sickly sweet smell in the air. And then her father would say something, and then they would be much nicer after that. 

Her father smelled of nitrous oxide… laughing gas. She didn’t know what the scary smell or the orange light that sometimes screamed out of their eyes meant, not until she found out what semblances were and what they did. 

“The idea that the Faunus and humans are and should be equal, that idea must be made into reality,” her father had said, the words only distantly remembered. “But the minds of those that look down upon us are set.”

_And so we must make them change their minds,_ he didn’t say. But now, she could understand what he meant well enough. _We must change their minds for them_.

Her father has everything under control, under his control. She could only wish that she could say the same for herself.

And so she walked out onto the arena, slowly walking to the centre and trying to hide her nervous jitters. The ring of stage lights were lit, and the crowd was cheering. Amidst the crowd, at a cheaper section of seats further back and off to the side, she saw her mother enthusiastically cheering her on.

But she made her way to the octagon in the centre of the arena itself nonetheless, stepping onto the central platform, her opponent already ready with her spear and shield. She took her position, felt her aura surge into life, and took a deep breath to steady herself. 

The octagonal central platform slowly but smoothly lifted off of the colosseum floor, levitating in the air to provide a raised arena.

Despite herself, despite her fears and inadequacies, and nerves, she felt her mouth twitch upwards into a smile. She felt her confidence grow, and her fingers weren't shaking as she levelled the point of her _jian_ to point at the other girl’s chest. 

Her sword now, not Papa’s. For at least a little longer.

Raising her eyes to her mother in the crowd, Radie caught and maintained eye contact with her. Her mother gave her a thumbs up, and mouthed something along the lines of ‘you can do this’. 

They wanted skill? Well, she'd practiced for this moment for years! They wanted style? She could take risks on this one, her light could pierce any darkness!

_Your blinding light will plague their dreams,_ her father would have said. She was sure of it.

And as she drew her right arm back…

“Three!” The announcer boomed, his voice carrying throughout the entire arena. “Two! One! Begin!”

...she raised her left arm, levelled her open hand at her opponent, and _pushed_.

Her aura pulsed, and then vented out over her left hand. There was a brilliant flare of light, only for a fraction of a second, as a single blindingly bright beam of white energy lanced out at her opponent. Radie had closed her eyes, though not fast enough to avoid leaving a black-blue streak in the centre of her vision, and there was a brief roaring sound as the light faded.

Radiance opened her eyes, and saw a white-hot disc of glowing metal some distance in front of her. The lingering remnants of her semblance’s beam still connected her hand to her opponent’s shield, which meant that she had somehow blocked it, but the beam seemed to still have pushed her back at the very least. 

The second beam missed, punching into the invisible force field protecting the crowd and leaving behind massive blue ripples as the barrier strained under the impact, and Pyrrha Nikos closed in for the kill. 

Her _jian_ counted for nothing against Pyrrha’s spear and shield. Any attacks Radie made would either be dodged or blocked by the shield, while her opponent could easily keep her at arm’s length with the superior range of her spear. She couldn’t even get enough distance to charge up and fire her beams, because the moment she tried to retreat her opponent would continue to apply pressure. All in all, she was outclassed and currently pretty much helpless. 

Pyrrha was the exact opposite of her, she knew; she certainly had skill, she definitely had style, and most importantly she had all the passion in the world. Radiance saw the look in her opponent’s eyes and made a sudden realisation - they were fighting for the same reasons. Both of them were under immense pressure; while Radie herself had to win because she had nowhere left to turn to, Pyrrha struggled under the burden of having to be the best and never losing. 

And for that reason, Radiance knew that, barring a literal miracle, she never had a chance of winning in the first place. 

She tried her best to hold her own, panic making her mangle her form, but she was slipping. Every so often the point of a spear or the razor-sharp edge of a shield would catch her aura and cut into it, and slowly but surely her aura was ticking down closer and closer into the red. She fought, she fought, blinking back tears, she fought for all she was worth, knowing it wasn't enough, it would never be enough...

_You have one shot at this_ , her father would have said. _Make it count._

One shot… one shot…

Radie made a run for it, retreating to the other side of the arena. She raised her arm in her opponent’s direction, reached deep into her very soul, and _pushed_ as hard as she could.

She felt her aura gather at her left hand, but this time she threw aside caution and continued pushing, trying to put as much aura as she possibly could into this one beam. She didn’t realise it past the fog of desperation that clouded her mind, not until it was far too late, but far too much aura had flooded into this one single charge, far too much, she couldn’t hold it—

This beam was slightly thinner but brighter, denser, more focused by far. Radiance wanted to close her eyes, or to look away, or to do literally anything else but stare in shock as the almost solid beam of brilliantly pure white light flashed into existence for only a few milliseconds. 

The overcharged beam passed its existence in eerie silence, just barely missing the side of Pyrrha’s head, but even from where she was, behind her left hand and outstretched arm, the heat from the discharge was nothing short of oppressive…. and then there was a sudden deafening thunderclap, a sound like cloth being torn but a million times louder, just before she was buffeted by a sonic shockwave of displaced superheated air. 

A beat of silence. Pyrrha staggered back, dropping her spear and covering her ears with both hands as she winced in pain. The audience seemed about as shocked as Radiance herself was - she had frozen up entirely, her hand and arm still outstretched, as wide eyes gazed upon the result of her own mistake with nothing short of terror. 

This was far beyond her maximum, what had she done, why had she pushed so hard—

Pyrrha shook her head quickly, seemingly regaining her senses, and immediately hurled her shield like a discus in Radiance’s direction. She couldn’t even move right now, much less dodge, so she could do nothing but watch as the bronze disc hurtled towards her.

The sudden impact to her sternum winded her, sending her sprawling to the cold floor of the arena’s raised platform, and the ringing of the buzzer fell upon her like a physical weight. Suddenly there was cheering, utterly deafening cheering as she sprawled on the ground, wheezing, trying to catch her breath while not breaking out into sobs…

The rest of it was a blur. She didn’t recall whether or not her opponent had offered a hand to help her up, but she was back on her feet. She didn’t recall sheathing her _jian_ , but it was just there, sheathed at her left side as per usual. Everything simply seemed diminished, colours and lights faded, sounds and emotions muted, as she slowly trudged back to the arena’s locker room. Knowing that her one chance had come and gone, collapsing down onto the benches and hunching over, she felt her heart break inside her chest. 

Her mother came in soon afterwards, walking toward her, and quietly drew her into an embrace. There and then, Radiance broke, sobbing into her shoulder like she was a little girl all over again. A little girl without a father, without any options, now without a future. 

A little girl who had been a disappointment. A failure.

There was buzzing in her mother’s pocket, and the gentle chime of a ringtone. Both of them froze. Her mother sighed deeply, pulled out her scroll, and took the call. She heard the speaker out for a few moments, and was clearly right about to hang up, right there and then, before she froze. With almost undue haste, she placed the scroll in her daughter’s confused hands.

“It’s for you, Radie,” her mother said. She almost sounded hopeful.

Radiance raised the device to her ear. “H-Hello?” She asked, her voice tremulous and painfully fragile even to her own ears. 

“A pleasure to meet you. Professor Leonardo Lionheart, of Haven Academy, at your service.”

She paused. “H-Haven Academy?” 

She wouldn't dare to hope, she couldn’t. Please, don’t let this be a cruel lie…

“Indeed. I must say, you showed a truly sterling performance today. Holding your own against Pyrrha Nikos herself! Oh, and your semblance, it’s truly a wondrous thing to see in action!”

“P-Professor?”

“Ah, where are my manners? Forgive me, I’ll be getting straight to the point. Would you like a place in my school?”

The scroll nearly dropped from her hands. Radiance began crying again, loud and ugly sobs escaping her lips, but for once there was a smile on her face.

“Y-Yes! Yes, I would.”

Her father was right. There truly was light at the end of the tunnel.


End file.
